I grew up in the Methodist Church. When I was young, my Dad was the minister in the church we attended. I remember the sights and sounds and how much I liked sitting in services surrounded by them. One sight in particular that imprinted itself is the little gothic arch-shaped board at the front that featured the hymn numbers for the day. The numbers on that board pointed to a rich sound experience, the hymns we would sing at three points during the service. There is something very powerful about a roomful of Methodists standing to sing those old and familiar tunes accompanied by an organ. As I participated in the experience, I became part of it.

As I grew older, like so many young people, I was searching, but I wasn’t quite sure for what. I visited all kinds of services and read about various religions. I admired many things that I read or saw and experienced in the services of other denominations and religions. I enjoyed extended stays in some religious environments. For a while, I was Congregationalist — because my friend’s father was the minister of that church. It felt familiar and homey. I loved the splendor and color of Catholic services. Buddhist philosophy attracted me. For awhile, I was Baptist.

As I look back on it, what attracted me to the Baptist Church was really a sign of where I was headed. When I visited a Baptist Church for the first time, I liked that there were Bibles stored in racks in the pews and that during the service, we took those books out of the racks and held them in our hands and read from them. Of course I loved many parts of the text, so familiar to me, but it was the physical act of taking out the book at a particular time and holding it and opening it that was most meaningful.

At a later time, I became interested in Judaism. Initially it was an intellectual attraction. What I read worked for me, and I wanted to read more. It wasn’t until I had been part of a Jewish community for several years, though, and constantly seeking and reading and experiencing as I was in that community, that I found the center point of my journey.

For several years, my experience and my learning were conducted in a Reform environment – and in an academic environment. I had a sense I was missing something but wasn’t sure what that something was. Then one day I visited a traditional synagogue where the scrolls were taken out of the ark with a cascade of ritual activity and bodily movement. I was overwhelmed with emotion, and tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t have put into words then exactly what that experience meant to me, but I knew I wanted more of it. That morning was the first step of my journey into the traditional corners of Judaism.

Now I know that what so moved me was ritual engagement: I call it “body language.” Judaism is a life filled with ritual activity, life enhancing movements that point to transcendence and deeper meaning. It was always non-verbal body language, ritual, that communicated meaning to me, from checking the numbers in the gothic arch-shaped sign and taking a hymnal, opening it, turning to a page, standing and singing beloved songs, to the Bibles in pews that I could anticipate picking up, opening and holding at a particular time to read well-known passages once again.

When I first glimpsed traditional Judaism, I felt as though I had come into an amazing and brilliant garden of ritual activity that spoke to me in ways and with a power I could have hardly imagined before I experienced it. At every moment of a day, whether in a worship environment or engaged in daily activities, there are ways to place or move one’s body — or to eat! — that communicate meaning. Even sitting in an Orthodox women’s section, an experience that so many non-traditional women view negatively, offered me opportunities for joy and religious growth. The physical experience of my body in that space and in that time communicated to me in ways that nothing else could have.

I also notice that when people try to explain the meaning of a ritual or particular body language, for example, sitting in the women’s section during synagogue services, it loses me. How is it possible to communicate anything but the most general concepts in language? Completely lost is the specificity of individual experience since no person shares another person’s bodily experience except in the most general ways. It is the intense individuality of the ritual experience that can make it so deeply meaningful.

How can you explain the taste of a matzah to another person? Each matzah tastes different not only because of where and how it was made but because of the moment and surroundings in which it is eaten and because of the person eating it as they are in that moment and in all their prior moments. It tastes different because of the words that are spoken at the time of eating and because of the level of awareness.

Eating matzah may have a general meaning brought to it through the education and liturgy common to all who share in a seder, a Passover meal, but it can also have a very powerful and specific meaning to each person at the celebration.

Rituals exalt mundane activities and give them meaning. They point to something beyond themselves: in the context of religion, they point to transcendence. Rituals do this not only within the general framework of what a religion teaches but in very specific and personal ways for the person in the moment.

As structured experience, rituals lift mundane activities like eating. They do this without words, which can educate and shape a person but can also distract one and disturb religious experience. I remember many occasions when a sermon included concepts that either irritated or alienated me — or included information that I wanted to be sure to check later. In those cases, I was more involved with trying to remember what it was that I wanted to check than with the experience I might have been having.

At one seder I attended, our host asked us to maintain silence after hand-washing and for a few moments while tasting the matzah. How powerful this wordless experience was, both in its general sense in the context of a seder and its deeply personal sense communicated through the experience.

Contrary to popular evaluations of ritual as mindless repetition, I believe ritual is an aid to conscious choices. Applied to my food choices, ritual heightens and focuses my awareness. It invites me to experience what I am eating more fully and to experience and express gratitude when I am satisfied.

Share this:

I’ve been cooking from scratch with whole foods for more than forty years. I have been vegetarian several times, most recently for more than 15 years. Now I am experimenting more with vegan foods.

During these forty plus years, I have tried to stay current on what we know about food and its relationship to our health. I have watched food “issues” come and go, including eggs, on the “hit list” for so many years, now not necessarily. If I were to eliminate every food that we’ve been told to eliminate, either by the medical profession or alternative health gurus, there would probably be nothing left to eat.

In this country of plenty (for many), we are particularly prone to demonizing categories of food, and someday I will write a post about the impulses behind this self-deprivation. I think of Der Hunger Kunstler (The Hunger Artist) by Franz Kafka.

Still, I am considering a next step. As I contemplate removing another class of food items from my own diet, namely eggs and cheese, I am sometimes frustrated and sometimes amused by an ever-growing list of forbidden foods. Grains and gluten are just two of the more recent on the food hit list.

I continue to consider grains my friends, despite the fact that most have gluten. I eat and enjoy wheat, oats, barley and more with no debilitating after effects even though grains are theoretically new to human consumption entering our food supply just 10,000 years ago. That appears to have been long enough ago for my system.

One day in my cafe, I was told by a customer who requested gluten free products that everyone suffers gluten sensitivity nowadays. This surprised me, since I definitely do not. I couldn’t help but think of “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” a story I read as a child. Did I dare to contradict what is increasingly becoming universally accepted truth, that we are all suffering from gluten sensitivity? Could I possibly suggest that the emperor might be naked, or at least partially so?

Still, I believed I owed it to my customers and myself to go beyond the evidence of my own body and read up on what the issues may be for others. I did read as many articles as I could find dealing with the issue of gluten and grains from all sides and perspectives. I read reviews on the articles to be sure I wasn’t led astray by the hype on this issue coming from all directions. I spent many days on the project but in the end found little that sounded credible or made any sense to me. For every statement, there was a counter statement that made at least as strong an argument.

Finally I came across an article on the Weston Price website (www.westonaprice.org) that had a ring of truth for me. It fit with my general ideas about the source of problems in our food supply: processing. Titled “Against the Grain,” it explores in some depth how grains have historically been prepared for consumption and in contrast how little of that correct preparation goes into them in contemporary times:

“Grains comprise a wholesome category of foods that must be respected for the complexity of nutrient contributions they can make to the human diet, and must always be prepared with care to maximize those nutrients’ availability as well as neutralize naturally occurring antinutrients. . .

“Growing and preparing food ought to be a sacramental service. It should not be based on violence, as is most of modern agriculture, factory animal farms and factories that produce finished food items like bread. All those processes are based on “conquering” the food item and forcing it into a form defined by commerce. There are no more subtle energies in these debased foods, let alone mere measureable nutrients or soul-satisfying taste and vitality.

“Food is holy. Its preparation and enjoyment constitute a daily opportunity to experience happiness, satisfaction and gratitude.”

Specifically grains have always been fermented (including raising breads several times) and/or cooked for long periods of time before use. In modern day processing, however, chemicals are used to advance the process.

Speeding the process has not always been a function of chemicals either. We all think sugar (a “natural” substance) is required to feed the yeast if the bread is going to rise properly, right? Actually, there are plenty of sugars in the grains, and no added sugar is required — yet try to find a bread on the supermarket shelves without sugar. Why? Because sugar will make the process go faster. Similarly, little or no yeast is required for bread to rise. Wild yeast is available in the air, and with time, dough can pick it up and will rise without added yeast — yet packages of yeast have almost a tablespoon in them. Why? Because more yeast will make the process go faster. In factories, bread is rammed through the rising/fermentation process in almost no time.

It makes sense to me that our need for speed has made us neglect some age-old, important techniques in the handling of grains and development of the gluten in our bread. As I read this article, it occurred to me that those who suffer what they perceive to be gluten reactions may actually suffer from abuse to their systems from years of eating manufactured bread products. I also wondered if my own lack of issues with grains is because I have eaten whole grain breads for the last 40 or more years, most of the time made at home and raised the old-fashioned way?

Another experience in my life gave me more insight into the gluten issue. This summer I was sick for four months with an intestinal issue caused by antibiotics. Initially my doctor recommended a BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast). The rice and the toast were both to be white. This is considered a “low-residue” diet and theoretically puts as little stress as possible on the digestive system. It was kind of fun to eat store-bought white bread for the first time in forty years, and I ate it with relish. It made me sick. Suddenly I was very sympathetic with what all those gluten free people had been telling me.

Eventually I came across a diet that did work for me called The Monash University Low FODMAP Diet. FODMAP is an acronym that stands for Fermentable Oligosaccharides, Disaccharides, Monosaccharides and Polyols. These are “dietary sugars that can be poorly absorbed in the small intestine and fermented by bacteria to produce gas. Current research strongly suggests that this group of sugars contributes to IBSS/FGID symptoms.” (from the App, available in the ITunes store). Many grains, including wheat, are excluded in this diet because they are high in FODMAPS. Bingo!

It seems to me likely that between improper handling of grains and the difficulty of digesting sugars in some carbohydrates there may be the beginning of an explanation for some of our problems with the staff of life. As some have said, casting a wide net over gluten products has probably taken an important element out of the diets of many people who didn’t necessarily need to remove that element. A vegetarian diet without grains is hard to do, vegan even more so.

The good news about the Low FODMAP diet for me was that it allowed me to be selective in a scientifically tested way about what I excluded from my diet instead of casting that huge net over so many foods. The even better news is that not all four sugars cause difficulty for everyone, so in time, it is possible to bring some foods back. Sometimes it is even possible to restore all the foods that were removed from one’s diet.

An excellent article I read recently in the New Yorker pointed to the same two pieces of the gluten puzzle that were verified by my own experience: “Against the Grain”discusses the improper grain handling described in the Weston A. Price article of the same name and the discovery of offending sugars in the Low FODMAP Diet from Monash University.

And now I’m going to go and enjoy one of my delicious 7-grain spelt muffins. Spelt is a type of wheat that is low FODMAP and therefore easier to digest. It makes a beautiful loaf, and although I can eat and enjoy regular whole grain bread, I enjoy experimenting with spelt. Sourdough, with its long fermentation and wild yeast, is better yet since the yeast “eats” the offending sugars.

Share this:

Last spring (there was one, I’m sure of it) a friend of mine shared an article explaining why she would not eat eggs even if she were able to gather them from her own home-raised chickens. The article was eye-opening, and I confess I wished I hadn’t read it. I’m not yet vegan, and eggs and good, vegetarian appropriate cheeses are a part of my diet that I very much enjoy.

I did read it, though, and having read it, I felt compelled to think about the content of the article and how it applies to my own life and values. I wasn’t yet ready to make a decision to become vegan, but I did decide to experiment more with vegan food. As part of that plan, I thought I might try growing microgreens in my home so I could enjoy fresh, nutritious salads every day, all year ’round.

Then I got sick. Antibiotics caused an intestinal infection that just wouldn’t go away. There was little I could eat, and I lost quite a bit of weight. Three doctors treated me and declared me well although I clearly wasn’t. I took matters into my own hands and tried to figure out how to manage what I was beginning to think might be problem for the rest of my life. I had some success with that but was finally told by a fourth doctor that I still had the infection. He treated it successfully, and everything is 100% now.

I’m rarely sick and never chronically. I was discouraged by this four-month experience. My microgreens experiment didn’t happen. I wasn’t able to eat any raw fruits or veggies! A succession of diets didn’t work. The diets recommended for intestinal issues exclude carbohydrates, some more extravagantly than others. They are built around animal products, some including more than others: eggs, some cheeses, fish, chicken and even meat. At first I restricted myself to eggs and cooked white potatoes, but as time went on, this became impossible.

My vegan explorations were at an end. Even vegetarianism was difficult. At one point, I was told the only thing that would work for me was bone broth. Hmmm. Nonetheless, I dutifully made bone broth, and when I sat to drink it, thanked the creature that gave its life for me.

Eventually I found a diet that did work for me as a vegetarian even though I still had the infection. If you are an IBS sufferer, I will be happy to tell you about this diet, which has proven effective in 90% of cases. It doesn’t exclude carbohydrates indiscriminately, just certain carbohydrates, and for very specific (tested) reasons. Although it was limited, it was less limited than all protein no carb diets. It also offered the hope that I might return to my former eating style, which is virtually all carbohydrates.

Although my plan to experiment more with veganism was temporarily diverted, and even vegetarianism was off the table for a while in the struggle to get well, I learned a great deal. I also had an opportunity to think even more carefully than I usually do about what is on my plate. In fact, I actually ate every meal on a plate! People in the food business are notorious for eating “on the run.” No more of that for me! Good digestion begins with sitting down in a focused way and thoroughly chewing every bite of food, at least 25 chews, to be exact. Try it: you will become very aware of how quickly and carelessly you usually eat.

So what did I learn? I learned about the digestive tract and how each part of it functions, including, as I mentioned, the importance of mental focus and careful chewing. I discovered that a high protein, low or no carb diet, as unhealthy as it may be in the long run, will result in weight loss. I learned that certain sugars in carbohydrates are indigestible and that while this doesn’t cause a problem for many people — for some it does. I learned that meat and fish can be more digestible than carbohydrates for some and may be life saving. I gained more insight into the gluten-free wave that is washing over us, and I will write about that in a future post. I learned that for those who suffer from IBS, there is a way to manage it and live a normal life — perhaps even overcome it.

Most of all, I gained a new appreciation for the sentiment behind one of the daily Jewish blessings: “Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who has formed man in wisdom, and created in him a system of ducts and tubes. It is well-known before Your glorious throne that if but one of these be opened, or if one of those be closed, it would be impossible to exist in Your presence…”

We are amazing creatures, as all creatures and creation itself are amazing.

Now that I’m well, I look forward to once again experimenting with vegan foods. You can watch this process in my blog! Not all the recipes are or will be vegan, but eventually I will offer vegan alternatives to all. It is a work in progress, as am I.

Share this:

I hosted a Shabbat dinner last evening and shared with my guests the 39 categories of work that are prohibited on the Sabbath. These categories, set out in the Mishnah, reflect the work associated with preparing the showbread for the ancient Temple (agricultural labors) and with building the tabernacle and creating the priestly vestments.

These categories of work are relevant to a time and a place, and over the centuries, ongoing interpretation has made them relevant to other times and places. The question that generates these prohibitions is the commandment that we should “rest” on the Sabbath. The question, therefore, is “What does ‘rest’ mean?” I can almost hear the rabbis discussing that concept.

The rabbis also make positive statements associated with the fourth commandment, to honor the Sabbath. These commandments and traditions include wearing festive clothing and refraining from unpleasant conversation, reciting kiddush over a cup of wine at the beginning of Shabbat meals or after morning prayers, eating three festive meals, engaging in pleasurable activities such as singing, studying, spending time with the family and marital relations, and reciting havdalah at the end of the Sabbath. It is the prohibitions, though, that have the status of commandments.

It occurs to me that with the prohibitions, the rabbis create a space for us to experience the meaning of “rest” freely instead of dictating what our experience should be. They are, in effect, modeling the freedom of Shabbat, freedom of worship.

The rabbis are confident that if we do not engage in the activities which fill our days, we will have a different kind of experience, an experience that will revolutionize our worldview. The prohibitions create a space for each of us to have that experience. We enhance the possibility of experience by engaging in the positive activities.

A tradition says that if every Jewish person observed Shabbat in all its particulars twice in a row, the Messiah would come (Shabbat 118). I believe that possibility exists because a complete Sabbath experience has the power to revolutionize perspective and worldview and as a result, one’s way of acting in the world.

Share this:

This potato salad is my version of a Lebanese classic. It is the vegan version of my Dill Potato Salad, also posted in this blog. I like to use turmeric with potatoes whenever I can, leave the peels on potatoes and take advantage of the beautiful variety of colorful potato skins these days. I always start lighter with my seasonings and adjust them up to what is listed in the recipe if needed.

Ingredients

6 lb. potatoes (2/3 white/yellow skins, 1/3 red and/or purple skins)

1 TB salt

1 TB turmeric

1 tsp hot paprika

1/4 – 1/2 cup chopped dill

3 green onions chopped

2-3 Middle Eastern dill pickles chopped

4-5 TB lemon juice (juice of about 2 lemons)

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

Procedure

Using a variety of potatoes to give color to the salad and leaving the peels on, dice into 1″ pieces.

Bring a pot of water to boil and add 1 TB turmeric. Add diced potatoes, bring back to a boil, reduce heat and cook until done (can be pierced through easily with a fork).

When done, remove potatoes from water, drain, chill quickly in ice water bath, and drain again.

Place chilled potatoes in bowl. Sprinkle olive oil over them, then lemon juice, then chopped dill, green onions and seasonings.

Fold all together gently, adjust seasoning, enjoy!

These potatoes are cut in a 1″ dice and cooked in boiling water with tumeric.

These are additional chopped ingredients. Take a look at that 3d printed lemon juicer that my son printed for me! It sits on a cup and is the best juicer I’ve ever had. The shape of the “cone” makes the difference.

Potatoes with all ingredients waiting to be folded in to complete the salad.

When my grandson was born, I said, “We need a ritual!” Sunday breakfast became that ritual. Over the years, details have changed, but the basic activity remains.

Sunday breakfast has layers of meaning, different for each of us. Some meaning can be expressed in words…some not. Therein lies the value of ritual as non- or pre-verbal meaning.

So it is with Cholent (Yiddish) or Hamin (Hebrew), meaning “hot.” Cholent is a stew prepared and put on to cook before the Jewish Sabbath begins on Friday and enjoyed as the midday meal on Saturday. It is a way to enjoy warm food without violating the prohibition against cooking on the Sabbath.

Cholent has a very special meaning for me. I am not a multi-tasker, yet I am usually doing at least three things at once. I am distracted and hardly feeling nurtured.

When I sit down to eat my cholent with friends and family, though, I am in a different space. Something miraculous happens while the cholent is left untended — then this gift arrives effortlessly on my table. I am nurtured by it. Enjoying cholent is a ritual that has layers of meaning beyond its taste and the fact that I eat it on the same day at the same time each week.

Making cholent has itself become a meaningful ritual activity. I gather ingredients and put them together. I anticipate the miracle that will happen overnight in that pot and the pleasure I will experience when I am able to share the miracle with others the next day.

This year my son gave me the gift of time by helping with some of the cooking in my Cafe. In return, I gave him the gift of preparing cholent each week. As I eat it, I can taste the layers of meaning it is taking on for him. This is “cooking with love,” feeding the soul while feeding the body. Soul food.

Share this:

On Friday evenings, I enjoy the first meal of the Sabbath. I like to prepare a table filled with colorful and delicious salads to tantalize my guests and add to the joy of these occasions. For years I made these salads weekly in my home. Now I offer them daily in my Cafe.

Ingredients

1/2 lg. head red cabbage

1/2 sm. red onion

juice of 1/2 – 1 lemon (to taste)

1/2 cup chopped cilantro

1 tsp. salt (to taste)

2 tsp. cumin

1/2 – 1 tsp. Szeged (Hungarian) hot paprika (to taste)

1/2 cup mayonnaise

Preparation

Petite dice the cabbage. Here’s how I cut the cabbage when I do it by hand: Cut thin slices of cabbage. Stack three or four at a time. Cut through the stack in thin strips. Cut in a perpendicular direction across the stack of strips. When all the cabbage has been cut this way, it may require a little bit of additional chopping but probably not if you keep your gridwork strips thin enough. Place the cabbage in a bowl.

Petite dice the onion. Here’s how I do that: Cut off the ends of the onion. Remove the outer layer. Cut the onion in half between the cut ends. Place the flat side of one half down on the cutting board. Cut across the onion in narrow strips, holding the onion together as you work. Turn the cut onion 1/4 turn and cut across the onion in narrow strips, forming a gridwork. The shape of the onion itself will leave you with a very small dice. Add the onion to the cabbage in the bowl.

Chop the cilantro, and add to the cabbage and onion in the bowl.

Fold in seasonings and mayonnaise to taste. It will vary with the amount of raw product and your preference. I like my salad to taste slightly tangy from the lemon but not overly tart – and to be zesty (from the hot paprika) but not “hot.” Start with the smaller amount of lemon, salt and hot paprika, and increase until it’s perfect for you. You can always add seasoning, but you can’t reduce it!

For a vegan version, this salad can be made with extra virgin olive oil instead of mayonnaise. Add 1/2 cup EVOO in place of the mayonnaise and bump up the lemon a bit.

Share this:

On Friday evenings, I enjoy the first meal of the Sabbath. I like to prepare a table filled with colorful and delicious salads to tantalize my guests and add to the joy of these occasions. For years I made these salads weekly in my home. Now I offer them daily in my Cafe.

Ingredients

12 Idaho potatoes

3 green onions

6 coarsely chopped Middle Eastern pickles in brine

1 red bell pepper, petite diced (the original recipe called for a can of peas & carrots, drained)

1 TB sea salt

1 tsp Szeged (Hungarian) hot paprika

1 cup mayonnaise or to taste

1/2 cup chopped fresh dill

Preparation

1. Peel potatoes and place them in cold water while working on the rest of the salad.
2. Dice the potatoes into 1/2″-1″ pieces. In the Cafe, I can use a machine for this process. At home, I do it by hand by cutting slices across the potato, stacking the pieces and cutting through the stack in a grid-like pattern. I try to keep the cuts as even as possible. Return the diced pieces to the bowl of water.

3. When all potatoes are diced, bring 2 quarts of water to the boil in a 4 quart pot.
4. Drain and add diced potatoes to the boiling water. Lower heat to simmer until potatoes are tender.
5. When potatoes are tender, place into a colander and drain. Put colander into a larger bowl filled with ice water. When potatoes are cold, drain the water.
6. Place drained potatoes in a bowl. Add all chopped veggies (green onions, fresh dill, pickles, red bell pepper) and sprinkle seasonings across the top.